NeverMore
by BFTLandMWandSEK
Summary: Rose Kirkland has always believed that she would be nothing greater than normal. That is, until a fateful encounter takes her down the path of being a lenore: a witch sent to defeat the drearies, the fallen happiness of humanity. Nyotalia.


**Story Summary: **Rose Kirkland has always believed that she would be nothing greater than normal. That is, until a fateful encounter takes her down the path of being a lenore: a witch sent to defeat the drearies, the fallen happiness of humanity.

**Note**: This is the fanfiction version of the tumblr story blog _aph-nevermore_, which is an interactive form of storytelling. The course of the story is periodically determined by the choices of the readers. The text below is generally the same as on the blog, though a few edits were made to better the continuity. For more consistent updates, please follow that blog. The link is in my profile.

**Warning: **Strong language, some sexuality, fantasy violence/gore

* * *

**-Chapter 1-**

* * *

_She was running. Feet pounding, heart racing, breath quick, and sweat covered. Rose was not sure exactly what she was running from but in this dark, dark world, she knew that it was the only thing she had to do. There was a man behind her and he would not rest until he had her wrapped around his pinky._

_She was not even all that sure where she was. Everything was black, yet there was a sort of smoke drifting around her face, suffocating her lungs. It stung her eyes, making her tear-up. Rose tried not to cough as she ran faster, but small— painful —spurts still forced its way up her throat._

_The man chasing her was coming closer and closer. She could feel his breath on the back of her neck, but she refused to stop. She had to keep going. Even though it hurt— even though she thought that her legs were going to give out at any given minute —she persisted. The only thing that could stop her now was death._

_But somehow, something pulled her back. Rose painfully fell back, yelping as she landed on the ground. She looked down and saw silver chains on her wrists, shackling her to the place she stood. Rose gasped. She tried to yank her hand free, to pull her wrist out of the cuff. Her only reward was a sharp bolt of pain._

_She tried to change positions, a better angle to fight against, but she didn't have space. No, she was in a slim chamber, barely big enough for her to kneel in. The walls were made of gray stones turned green from mold. Rose placed her hands on them, feeling their rough texture on her skin._

_The light started to disappear. Rose turned around and saw another wall. This one, however, was only built half way. The man she had been running from was placing bricks on top of it._

_Completing it._

_Burying her alive._

"_Stop it!" Rose jumped to her feet, hitting her shoulders against the walls. The chains jingled as she placed pounded her hands on the wall. "Let me out of here!"_

"_Let me out of here!" The man repeated cruelly, laughing at his own joke. "Let me out of here, Rose!"_

_She grounded, pounding her hands harder. "For the love of God— just stop it!"_

"_Yes! For the love of God!"_

_More and more bricks were added and her window to the outside was nearly gone. The darkness started to engulf her again. Rose screamed, "Let me out! Please!" She fell to her knees, scraping her legs on the bricks in the process. "Please," she begged, feeling the tears welled in her eyes. "Let me out."_

_The man started laughing again. "Not very fortunate of you now, little girl," he said. He placed another brick on the wall. There was only space for one more. Once it was there, she would be engulfed in black. "Now may you rest in peace."_

* * *

Rose groaned, rubbing the heel of her hand into her eye as she sluggishly drifted out of her dream. The alarm clock was going off— the annoying repetition of ear curling beeps. The digital green numbers declared the time to be a little before seven. School started in about an hour, though her responsibilities as the student council president required her to be there earlier to "set a good example."

She groaned again, taking her glasses off of the bedside before falling back into her pillow. The lenses wiped the blur out of her vision, defining the flower wallpaper on her walls. Her five year-old self had begged her father for the obnoxious, never ending print of red, blue, and white roses, but now she can do nothing other than loathe it and try to hide it behind posters of bands and movie stars. A black and gray poster of Mayday Parade stared at her from the corner of the room as she closed her eyes again.

Rose was never the type to vividly recount every detail about her dreams, but for some reason, this one was crystal clear. She could still feel the rough, cold stones beneath her fingertips. A chill traveled down her spine. When she thought about it, she knew that there was nothing particular about the dream. Yet it still left her with a well in her chest, plunging deep and deeper into who knows where.

Her bedroom door slammed open and a man with messy orange hair stood angrily at the doorway. "Turn off the fucking alarm!" He screamed, glaring at her with acid green eyes. The early morning cigarette bounced between his lips.

Rose sighed. She forgot that the blasted thing was even still on. She reached over to tap the button off, rolling her eyes as she said, "Sorry, Allistor. I forgot that the princess needed her beauty sleep."

Her brother's glare became more venomous. "I was at work until three in the bloody morning," he said, his voice rising with each syllable. "I don't need your fucking sass right now."

She ran her fingers through her waist length blond hair, already working out her morning set of knots. Allistor was the manager of a restaurant downtown, yelling at waiters and cooks from lunch to dinner. Rose supposed that she was somewhat proud of him— the job suited him a little bit too well —but the cranky mood he always came back home in made the prospect bitter in her mouth. "I was up until three studying and I have to be at school in thirty minutes," she snapped. "You don't need to get up until later."

He clenched his jaw, his bones creating sharp angular rigids on his face. "I would, but you Goddamn alarm clock—"

"Okay, okay— fine, fine." Rose pulled her comforter off, a jolt of a shiver from the cold ringing through her body, and forced her feet onto the freezing wood floor. "Now get out so I can change."

Allistor curled his upper lip, biting on the end of his cigarette. "Just be quiet." He slammed the door shut again, causing the knickknacks on her dresser to shake violently. Rose sat in silence for a moment longer, staring at where he once stood, before finally leaving the comfort of her bed.

A peek behind her white blinds revealed that it would be another cold day. It was November and the dead brown leaves were still littering the grass on the front lawn. The trees were mostly bare though, their emaciated arms reaching up to the blue sky. Rose knew a few people who enjoyed this nearly-winter-but-still-sort-of-fall weather, but she was no fan. Spring was the best. Never too hot, but never too cold. A little rain every here and there, but mostly pleasant sunshine.

The winter uniform for Annabel Lee Elite All Girls Academy was still the classic red skirt and white blouse from the summer one, though plain knee socks or tights and the tan uniform sweater were allowed for comfort during the cold. Rose made the choice to wear black tights, the pair that was only a few shades lighter than her mary janes. The school only allowed subtle jewelry and makeup, though Rose never bothered with either of them. They both took too much time in her hasty morning routine. That was also the sole reason why she preferred her hair in two pigtails— it was simple, easy, and it meant that she only had to spend a minute taking care of her bedhead.

It was ten past seven in the morning when Rose stuck a piece of toast in her mouth and started the long walk to school. Already the narrow streets were filled to the brim with cars and people, everyone hurrying into their dauntingly high skyscrapers to start another day at work. That was city life, the kind of life Rose loathed. Superficially, it appeared busy, but Rose knew that everyone was secretly just as bored as she was.  
It was just the same white and black days that pass on without rest.  
She wondered if her whole life was doomed to be like this forever— a never ending cycle of waking up and going to sleep again. Nothing really great to work for.

Just average.

"Watch out!"

Rose jerked her head around, having a split second to realize that a girl on a high speeding bike was heading straight towards her.

She jumped away, falling to the ground, her arms stopping her fall. The soft skin of her palms peeled away painfully, leaving her with shallow cuts on her hands. Her red backpack landed a few feet away, the innocent bystanders not bothering to pick it up for her. The bike had long since zipped past her, the girl calling out a quick sorry as she kept going. Rose lifted her face off of the pavement, wiping away the dirt and grime as she saw the biker getaway.

She was wearing the same uniform Rose was. Luckily (and rather stupidly, in Rose's opinion), she also wasn't wearing a helmet, letting the world see her head of short, curly blond hair. Rose felt like screaming. She knew that head. She had to sit behind that head every morning in math.

Rose finally picked herself off of the ground, brushing away the dirt. She adjusted her glasses before retrieving her bag. As she marched the next fifteen minutes to the academy, she let herself return to her hatred for Amelia Jones.

To be truthful, Rose didn't really _hate _the girl. The mere thought of the girl simply irritated her, made her want to punch a wall. Everyone knew that Amelia Jones was the girl from down South who refused to ever let her accent show. She lived off campus with her parents and twin sister and rode her bike to school every day, rain or shine. Everyone knew who Amelia was— whether it was for her infamy or her sociability.

Rose certainly knew her for the former. As she marched down the gray streets and to her school, Rose knew that she was going to make Amelia see hell for it.

Annabel Lee Elite All Girls Academy was a grand sight for the eyes. The tall, two story building looked like a cream colored castle with long windows. An iron wrought black gate surrounded the property, encasing green fields for sports and leisure. Many of the students were already gathered at the front steps, discussing with each other school and the latest fads for fashion.

As Rose hurried up the steps, she noticed at the corner of her eye the dance team. They were by a patch of green under a set of naked trees, wearing sweats as junior Chun-Yan guided them through a routine of spins, kicks, and tumbles. Chun-Yan, a petite girl with a face pale enough to put a ghost to shame, was not the captain of the dance team at all. In fact, the exchange student from China with silky black hair pulled into two spheres at the side of her head was infamous for taking control when she shouldn't.

Rose made a note to herself to ask the dance captain if Chun-Yan had permission to lead the other dancers.

Amelia Jones's bike was already at the bike rack, chained up under lock and key. Rose stared at it for a moment of irritation before groaning. Logic said that Amelia would be anywhere but in the classroom ten minutes before school started. "_So where to look for her now?" _Rose wondered, walking up the stone steps and into the school.

If the outside was decent, then the inside was impressive. Gray tiles that looked like marble made up the floor, a perfect device to cause the clicking of heels. The hallways were wide on the account that there were no lockers at Annabel Lee Academy. Students were expected to bring whatever books they needed for the day to every class. Bulletin boards did take up the free space, however, and the brown cork was crowded with advertisements and student council approved posters.

Rose placed her hands on her hips and sighed. The school was huge. What would the chances be of finding Amelia before the school bell rang?

"Miss Rose!" The blond could not help but to smile as a different, but familiar, girl ran down the hall, looking slightly worried and excited all at once. Her chin cropped hair was black and reflected light with ease, but it hang limply down the sides of her face, outlining her small features.

The girl slowed a few feet away from her, placing her hands politely at her sides as she smiled pleasantly. "Good morning, Miss Rose," she greeted. "I was looking for you."

Rose smiled. She always told her to stop with the formal titles or else she'll start graying, but the girl never seemed to listen. "I'm sorry Sakura," she said, starting a walk to her first period class. She'll have to deal with Amelia later. "I was just running a little late today."

Sakura nodded respectfully. "I see. That is no problem, I just have to ask you something involving the student council."

"You're the V.P, so what is it?"

Before Sakura could say anything, a loud voice rang through the air, conquering even that of the clicking heels of the hallways. "Yo, Prez!" Sure enough, Amelia Jones came strutting down the hallway, her uniform littered with wrinkles and a baseball bat resting between her arm and shoulder. With a big grin dominating her face, she did not seem to realize that Rose was glaring at her evilly when she straddled her legs and rocked on her heels, saying, "Did you know that Anya returns from her trip around Europe today? We need to, like, celebrate this by not having classes if you know what I mean."

Rose knew exactly what she meant. Although Anya Braginski's sudden family tour around Europe was the talk of the academy for weeks, Rose could care less what the soft spoken brunette did in her free time. Rather, she knew that Amelia would never admit to nearly killing her unless Rose asked her explicitly.

She crossed her arms over her chest, narrowing her eyes behind her wire rimmed glasses as she tapped her foot impatiently. Amelia's grin faltered for a moment, but held strong. Amelia turned to Sakura, nudging her shoulder lightly. "What's up with the Prez?" she asked. "Did her boyfriend dump her or something?"

Sakura shook her head. "I'm sorry to say, but Miss Rose has never had a boyfriend." Rose turned her glare against Sakura, as if to ask if revealing that one little detail was truly necessary.

It was lost on both of the girls. Amelia pointed her, leaning into the smallest girl's ear to whisper, "No boyfriend? Does that mean she's a prude or a lesbian?"

Rose stomped her foot, feeling her face flush. "Amelia!"

She laughed, merrily patting Rose's stiff shoulder. "Chill out, Prez, I was only joking," she said. "Geez, what got your panties in a bunch today?"

"You when you nearly ran me over with your bike."

The school bell rang for the first time that morning, signaling that there were five minutes left until class started. Students suddenly flooded into the hallway, creating a boisterous noise of morning chats and laughter. The throng grumbled a little at Rose, Amelia, and Sakura went they had to walk around them, but they mostly left them alone on their island in the middle of the hall.

Amelia's grin faltered ever so slightly as she sheepishly scratched the back of her head, saying, "That was you, wasn't it?" Rose folded her arms over her chest in reply. Amelia chuckled hollowly. "Yeah sorry about that, Prez. My brakes gave out and I couldn't stop, you know?" Rose was silent. "Well, I guess I gotta make this up to you now."

Rose sighed. "That wouldn't be necessary," she relented. "As long as you promise to get that bike fixed and promise to be more careful—"

The other girl shot a silencing finger up into the air. Her thick eyebrows were drawn together as she looked to the side in concentration. "No, this is completely necessary! There is no way that I will leave a debt unpaid." Amelia clapped her hands together, a victorious smile appearing on her face. "I know! How about you hang out with me today after school!"

Rose stared at her for a moment, not quite sure if what she heard was correct. Amelia had some crazy ideas, but this one was one of the worse. Rose always busted her when she pulled a prank—why would she suddenly want to spend time with her, even for a debt? She asked, "You want to waste my time downtown?"

"That's not what I meant. Me and some friends are going to get something to eat after school today, so why don't you come with us and I'll pay. My treat."

She dropped her shoulders and sighed again. "Love to, but I have student council obligations today."

Amelia frowned. "Tomorrow then?"

"I have them every day after school."

At this point, Sakura politely coughed into her fist. She waited until both of the blondes were looking at her quizzically. A kind smile pulled on the ends of her lips as she said, "If you don't mind me saying, but as Vice President I would be more than happy to cover for you today."

Amelia shouted with joy, pumping her fist as she bounced her knees in a crude victory dance. Rose, however, could only hang her mouth. "Are you sure?" she asked curtly. "I mean, it's really not a big deal."

Sakura shook her head. "No, I insist. You rarely ever go out and have fun, Miss Rose. This will be good for you."

For a moment— a very small moment —the pit in her chest that her bizarre dream gave her returned to her. She placed a tentative hand on her chest, rubbing away the pain of emptiness. Yes, she spent the majority of her time making sure that the student life at this school ran smoothly and yes, she rarely ever had time for friends (or friends for that matter), but Sakura made it seem as though she had no life at all. Which was, in fact, a complete lie.

Rose was happy with her life.

As she thought it, she knew that it was a flat out lie.

Amelia's happy visage returned as she stood tall and proud with her fists on her hips. "What do you say, Kirkland. Wanna have fun today?"

Rose frowned and crossed her arms over her chest, averting her eyes. "Sure," she spat unhappily. "Just don't waste my time."

Amelia's grin engulfed half of her face. She fist bumped, jumping up in the air as she shouted with joy. "Victory!"

Rose sighed. She figured that spending more time with Amelia might give her the opportunity to explain to her why she needed to do better at school, but now she was not so sure. Amelia was a hard bull to tame. Pin one side of her down and the other bounces right back.

Amelia bounded back to her, taking her hands in hers as she looked at her excitedly. "Meet me here straight after school," she ordered. "And not a minute later or else we'll leave without you."

Rose gave an outlining Sakura a sideways glance. "What a tragedy that would be."

The vice president finally tapped Amelia's shoulder. She seemed like she was dwarfed compared to the curvy blond. She twisted her slender fingers together, saying, "With all due respect, Miss Jones, but class will be starting soon."

They looked around, realizing for the first time that the hallways were no longer crammed with students. The white clock in the wall gave them less than a minute to get to their class. Rose nearly dropped her bag. "Shit!" She swore, placing her hands on the sides of her head. "We gotta get going, or we'll—"

Amelia rolled her eyes and grabbed Rose's wrist. "Shut it and run." She dragged Rose behind her as she spurted off down the halls.

Rose was not one for athletics. She did a little ballet when she was younger, but gym was never her forte. Naturally, that meant that when Amelia was finally pushing Rose into her desk in the middle desk of the third row of Pre-Calculus right before the bell rang, she was beyond winded. Her breaths came out of her chest in long wheezes, like a dog toy that had been chewed one too many times. Ignoring the strange looks of the other students, Rose leaned into her desk and placed a hand on her chest. She could feel her heart against her skin.

Like all of the other classrooms at Annabel Lee Academy, the walls were painted a light, creamy yellow. The fake marble floors continued into the classroom, headed by a clean white board and filled uncomfortably with desks. Long windows lined the far wall, overlooking the grass soccer field. Their teacher stood at the front, right next to another student, as he gave Rose an odd look. "Are you alright, Rose?" He asked, his scrunched eyebrows forming folds on his forehead.

She raised her thumb into the air. "Fabulous."

He nodded. He was silent for a moment before finally interrupting his whispering students. "Alright, class. Settle down, settle down." A few grumbled, but ultimately the girls hushed. The teacher tug at the cuffs of his dress shirt, saying, "Now I know that you all are excited for the fascinating world of functions and the like, but first, we have a new student in class today." He motioned to the girl besides him. "Marianne, if you would please."

The student smiled coyly, her full lips red against her pale skin. "Yes, I'm Marianne Bonnefoy," she said, speaking with a slight French accent. "As you may have guessed, I am from France—" She flicked the artfully loose strand of blonde hair that fell from her tight bun. The crystal studs on her ears flashed. "—Auvergne, actually, but I have been living in America for the past year or so. I hope that we can get along."

It was silent for a long moment as everyone waited for her to say anything more, but her lips were sealed in that playful visage. Amelia was the first to speak. "Dang girl, you look like something out of _Vouge."_ The class laughed. Marianne giggled, agreeing.

"_Well it's nice to see she has a sense of humor," _Rose thought, feeling the burn in her lungs fade away. Rose sighed and, leaning back in her chair, scrutinized Marianne carefully. Marianne wore black tights— perfectly smooth on her shapely calves —and her skirt and blouse held no wrinkles. Her accessories did not follow the guidelines, however: Her earrings were long silver dangles, bracelets crawled up her arms, and a blue scarf was tied around her neck. She looked nice, yes, but school uniforms were made to be dreary, not stylish.

The teacher patted the air, his sharp voice rising above the noise. "Okay, that's enough. Thank you, Amelia, for showing off your exquisite sense of humor."

Amelia grinned. "I speak the truth and nothing but the truth or so help me nondenominal-higher-being." Rose leaned forward in her seat and smacked her, hissing for her to be quiet.

Their teacher looked ready to groan. "Thank you for that again, Amelia. Marianne, you may take a seat—"

Marianne pointed to the seat next to Rose. "Can I sit there please?" She asked.

Everyone from Rose to the girl already sitting there (Anya Branginski, round face and seemingly rounder bodied after her trip around Europe) were bewildered. The teacher gave her an odd look. "Why?"

"I have very delicate eyes and sitting in the empty seat in the back of the room would ruin them and, naturally, I would be disgusted if I had to sit in the front where I would be incessantly faced with the trail of your terrible body odor." Marianne sniffed the air. "Frankly, whatever you are using, sir, does not work. I presume that that is the reason why you are not married yet or else you would be wearing a wedding ring, but you are not so, therefore, I am right."

Amelia whooped with laughter, prompting similar responses from the rest of the class. Rose, however, was brimming with anger. Who was this French girl to suddenly say such horrid things? And to a teacher, nonetheless. Their teacher's face was redder than blood and he was more volatile than a mine. He growled, "Can I speak to you outside, Ms. Bonnefoy?"

Marianne looked complacent. "Gladly." Her steps seemed a bit more sated than before as she followed him out the door, her small chin raised a little higher. Rose's teacher sent his students a hard look before closing the door after them.

The class burst into laughter again.

Amelia turned around in her seat, clapping her hand excitedly. "I don't know what ya'll are thinking, but that girl is awesome!" She declared vividly. Rose opened her mouth, ready to scold her for encouraging the French girl, when Amelia sprung her attention onto Anya. "Dude, you have to let her have your seat."

Anya jumped a little in her seat, nervously dragging her hands through the ends of her brown— almost gray —hair. "I'm not sure," she said. Her voice, Rose noticed, was curiously juxtaposed to her body language. She sounded calm, under control, not frightened or anxious. "Do you think that Mr. H would go for it?"

The blond nodded. "Of course. Just move into the seat back there and Marianne will sit here— no questions asked."

Anya was quiet for a long moment. She placed her hand under her chin, looking down at the ground evenly. "I suppose that you have a point," she mused. "But what would I get out of it?"

"Ravens."

Rose knitted her brows. "What is that supposed to mean?" She demanded, but Amelia only waved her off.

Anya, however, was oddly satisfied. "I see. I was not aware of that fact." She rose from her seat, collecting her notebook and bag. "I'm not sure where you find these things out, Amelia," she sighed. "But you've never been wrong before. And besides, Chun-Yan would like her." Before Rose could have any say on that matter, Anya turned on her heels and went to the back of the classroom.

Rose watched her settle herself in her new seat, content and natural. What in the world… Rose whipped her head back to Amelia, glowering. "What in the world was all of that about?" She demanded.

Amelia smiled and placed a finger over her lips. "It's a secret."

Marianne came back into the room, looking no less satisfied than when she first entered. The teacher looked more peeved though, especially when he saw her take Anya's seat but he had long passed the verge of giving up. He started his class then, throwing the girls a lesson of strange numbers and odd letters. Rose did her best to follow along, but she was more inclined to read books, not solve math problems. Amelia, however, was flying through the lesson, taking notes quicker than life and nodding in understanding. Rose saw Marianne doodled on her paper.

When the bell finally rang, Rose took her chance to talk to her. She stood and, before she even gathered her stuff, said, "Hi, I'm Rose Kirkland, the Student Body President." She extended her hand.

Marianne looked at it before snickering. "How formal of you," she said. The tone of her voice made Rose want to hit her. "But very well—" She took her hand. "—it's a pleasure to meet you, Flower."

Rose gritted her teeth. "My name's not Flower."

"Yes I am well aware you said that it is Rose, but Roses have thorns and I can tell that you have none." Rose gave her an odd look. She sighed. "I mean you have no backbone, hon."

Marianne's hand was suddenly toxic. Rose snapped it away, sucking in her gut as she raised her chin higher. "I was going to tell you that half of the things that you are wearing are against the dress code."

"And what are you going to do about it?"

"I'm going to have to ask you to take it off."

"Fine." Marianne took off her scarf and handed it to Rose. "Hold this, Flower, while I just—" She pulled her vest over her head and tossed it at Rose's face. By the time Rose was able to pull it away, Marianne was already unbuttoning the first few buttons of her blouse.

Rose flushed. "That's not what I meant!" She yelled, throwing the articles of clothing back at her. Her scream, however, attracted the teacher's attention.

"Marianne, what in the world are you doing?"

* * *

The incident with Marianne (who was promptly given punitive action) left Rose in a sour mood for the rest of the day. When underclassmen tried to approach her about this thing or that, they were quickly scared off by the sharp glare in her narrow eyes. The morning classes trickled by slowly. Her lunch in the solidarity of the library was slower than sap. Afternoon lectures were stagnant. When the end of the day came, Rose reminded Sakura of the day's tasks before arriving at her rendezvous point.

Hesitant looks spied at her curiously, a few whispers accompanying them. Rose sighed, leaning against the wall until Amelia and her friends decided to appear.

When she really thought about it, Rose was not sure _who_ Amelia's friends were. The girl was animated— a swarm of bees who could not decide on a flower. She buzzed from person to person, whoever suited her needs at the time. Then when all of the pollen was gone and she had her honey, she abandoned the girl and went onto the next. No one was ever her accessory for long.

"Prez!" Rose relaxed as Amelia sprinted down the hall, a trail of girls behind. Rose knew them at once: Chun-Yan Wang, Anya Braginski, and Marianne Bonnefoy. She frowned. Chun-Yan and Anya were her friends? Since when? The two girls clung to each other with no space for Amelia. And what about Marianne? They just met today and she was already a friend? Pathetic.

Amelia skidded to a halt, a good hallway's length away from the rest. Rose did her best to smile. "Hey, Ame—"

"I am so sorry!" Rose took a step back. Where did that come from— that sudden burst of voice? Before she could even ask, Amelia started talking again, wildly throwing her arms in big circles in the process. "Something just came up and I can't take you to get ice cream today— I am so sorry about that— I promise that I'll take you out some other time and It'll be a bajillion times better— I am so sorry but I— you understand, right?"

Rose stared at her with wide eyes. "No, I don't."

Amelia paused, a thought caught on the edge of her mouth. Rose was sure that she could see the brim of water welling in her eyes. Rose did not even know _why _she was crying so. She did not _want _to go out with Amelia, but she was still disappointed.

And somewhat betrayed.

Was everything better than spending the afternoon with her?

Even that completely rude and off-setting Marianne Bonnefoy?

At last, Amelia sighed. Her usual smile, worn carelessly on her visage, was gone, replaced by a new, thick frown. "I really don't wanna," she said, much softer than before. "But something important came up. Sorry, Rose." She held out her pinky, attempting a soft smile. "Tomorrow, I promise."

Rose stared at it, nearly lifting her hand to hers. Then, without much thought, she adjusted her bag. "Don't bother." Without another word, she turned on her heels and marched away. She thought she heard Amelia saying something to her, maybe to stop, but the quick chirping of Marianne Bonnefoy kept her walking.

The outside air met her graciously. The cold air cycled around her, attempting to fill up the new holes in her body. Rose slowed. She placed a hand on her chest, pressing her lips as she hissed. It felt like her lungs were constricted by a snake and she did not know why. Yes, Amelia was upsetting, but not so much to induce a spout of asthma. In retrospect, Rose supposed that she should have returned to the student council room and given Sakura the rest of the afternoon off, but her head ached and she felt less than eager to spend the next two and a half hours ordering the rest of the student council about. Instead, Rose merely forced herself to forget her surroundings and let her feet take her where they wanted to go.

Her meandering took her back into the city— through the congested sidewalks, around the soaring buildings, across the black-river streets. The noise of everyday life swarmed into her ears, wide and whole in her head like a never-ending, swarming buzz. Maybe she was trying to escape it, find a silent place in her own mind.

One that didn't screamed that no one liked her, everyone hated her, she was too dumb. She had no friends. She could claim all she wanted that Sakura was one, but then why did the girl always called her "Miss" and never just "Rose?"

What a sense of cruel irony— even the yes-man of the school could say no to her.

Too much time passed in a blink of an eye and, the moment Rose realized that, she returned to reality long enough to realize where she was. It was the park, one stuck in an open grass field in between the buildings. Skinny sticks the city called trees decorated the ground, outlining the expanse. The few children who were there screamed and giggled at the play set, dangling from the monkey bars and rocking back and forth on the swings. Their parents watched from the lunch tables, a few talking but most keeping to themselves.

When Rose was younger and her mother still around, she and Allistor would come down there every day to play. Those were good times— he did not have a restaurant to run, a mother who died, a father serving the marines. He even smiled a few times. He didn't smoke too. He never called her a bitch or a stupid whore. Back then, when they were young enough to play in the park, Allistor told her that he loved her, that he would always be around for his little sister.

What bullshit that ended up being.

Rose pressed her back against one of the trees, careful not to knock it over as she slid down to the dirt. In the late afternoon cool, complete with grey skies and a light breeze, Rose felt the moist soil seep through her skirt. She didn't care though. It was a little quieter here, though the noise was still raging and her chest still ached.

Rose pulled her glasses off and rubbed the bridge of her nose. She closed her eyes. Now that she thought about it, there was no one whom she was particularly close to. Everyone she knew seemed to shy away from the very concept of being friend with the prune president. It wasn't her fault that she had to act like this all the time, be a sucker to the rules. She wanted more than anyone to break them, see the comfortable walls she strove to protect break until she could fall to her knees and cry her heart out.

But what would that do? Rose was not _that _desperate. She knew that she would never reach the fatal point of no return, not as long as she held her responsibilities close. So why did she imagine she would?

The first reason that popped into her head was a simple one: she was selfish.

She wanted the attention. She wanted someone to turn around and pity the poor girl. But she was not a poor girl. She was Rose Kirkland, the girl who was independent and utterly alone.

Rose bit her lip.

She was alone.

Always alone.

She had no one, not even that lazy-ass Amelia Jones.

"yOU dON't HAvE To BE aLOnE."

Rose slowly opened her eyes. A screamed rose up her throat, though something fist-like clutched it before it reached her mouth. Right there— standing above her grand and refined —was herself.

Nearly.

Rose saw that it was standing there in her school uniform, but its face was whiter, more clear than humanly possible. She knew that there were whites in those larger eyes, but they appeared only dark to her, expanses she could only dream to explore. The mouth was the same way, though when the look-a-like opened it, the voice was raspier and sounded like scratches on a chalkboard.

The _thing _extended its hand towards her, saying, "yOU cAN bE HeRE lIKEd, LIkE AmELiA. EvERyONe LIkES hER." Rose's need to scream increased, but the sound refused to escape her throat. Cold sweat was her only speaker, loudly trickling down her forehead and onto her skirt. "dON't YOu WAnT To BE hAPPy?"

Rose braced herself against the tree. She was sure— positive— that the thingbefore her was nothing more than just a mere image of her imagination, but it seemed so _real. _The thing slowly lowered its hand before kneeling down to Rose's height. Cold sticky breath spread like lacquer over her cheek, her sweat turning into syrup. "yOU cAN bE HaPPy IF yOU wANt," it hissed. It reached up and placed a hand on her cheek.

She could feel it.

She could feel this sickly smooth, rubber even, skin on her face.

Whatever breath she had was vacuumed out of her throat.

Flight reflex kicked in. Rose pushed herself further against the stick of a tree, kicking her legs out as she whimpered loudly.

Air.

If she had air, she could scream for help. If she screamed for help, one of the moms with the children at the park could help her. Rose twisted around, planning to squirm away, when the thing roughly grabbed her chin.

Rose yelped and closed her eyes. "Let go of me," she pleaded, lashing her arms out wildly. She felt more of that hideous skin before feeling its arm at the tip of her fingers. She dug her nails into it and drew them down the width of the arm. The thing hissed a stream of steam before grabbing her chin even tighter. The pressure swarmed her face, making small tears stream from her eyes.

She was crying?

Why was she crying?

Rose's head felt like it was going to burst. She screamed out, slashing her hand again and kicking out her legs. The damned thing groaned before fiercely yanking her face towards it. For a moment, Rose opened her eyes again.

She saw three rows of reddened teeth. She gawked at them, growing stiff from confusion. What was she looking at? It wasn't until she saw a thick black tongue riddled with welts and warts slither expectantly over them did her brain finally process what it was— a mouth.

Rose screamed.

Her hands went to the thing's chest and, whether she believed it or not, it flew away.

She watched in bewilderment as it skidded across the grass before finally crashing into a bench many yards away. Rose's eyes slowly drifted to her hands. A small wisp of smoke permeated from her skin. Rose's heart sped again. Why was her hand doing that?

"Ahoy Prez!" Two lean legs appeared in front of her and casted a long shadow over her. Rose stared at the pair of high knee boots before her before slugging her eyes further up the body. Before her stood a girl with a familiar cheeky grin. A short, military green skirt barely swished around her, hanging low on her hips. A midriff appeared next, only interrupted by an equally green crop top that was more akin to a bikini. Her arms, however, were covered by a large leather jacket that flapped behind her like a cape.

Rose stared at the straddle legged girl for a moment longer before seeing the wooden bat in her hands.

Then, it clicked.

"Amelia?"

Amelia must have caught the disbelief in her tone since the audacity flushed away. Taking a deep breath, she knelt to the ground and placed a hand on Rose's shoulder. "Are you alright?" she asked quietly. "Did it hurt you anywhere?"

Through the roaring haze that engulfed her thoughts, she realized that she wasn't hurt. Besides the increasing pressure her asthma endowed her, there was not a single lick of pain. Rose moved her head a little, somehow aware that Amelia knew it meant no.

Rose watched her face relax as she lightly patted her shoulder. "Good girl— I knew that you had a fighting spirit inside of you," she said. "Though I wouldn't have expected you to launch the damn thing across the park."

Rose nodded slightly. The words rolled over her, leaving barely any marks in her brain. So she was alright? "_Why is Amelia here?" _she found herself thinking, peering at the bright girl. Why did Amelia look like she was hiding something? The answer came soon enough, when Rose found her gaze drifting to the other side of her shoulder. Something was moving behind her. Multiple things, actually. Though they were mere colorful blotches in an unfocused world, it was plain what they really where: people.

The girl leaned to the side, wondering if her glasses were dirty. "What's going on over there?" She asked aloud.

Amelia swore loudly as she jumped in front of her, shielding the other's vision with her body. "What are you talking about?" she asked quickly. "There's nothing there!"

The noise was becoming clearer by the second. The sounds pulled apart until, at last, Rose could make out three distinctly different voices.

"You know, Chun-Yan, the dreary is going to break free soon."

"I know that! If you two just helped me out then it wouldn't be a problem now, would it?!"

"I'm not sure— you're the Summoner. You should have gotten rid of it already."

Rose's eyes went wide when she realized who they were: Anya, Chun-Yan, and Marianne. Amelia's friends. Rose shook her head, staring as she pushed her away. "Let me …" She trailed off, hardly believing what was in front of her eyes.

Chun-Yan stood over the monster. Her feet, decked in slim black slippers, dug into its back. Her hands were popping out from the long black sleeves of her traditional looking, black dress Rose always saw in the restaurants. At least it would have been a dress except it was cut off at her hips and a pair of tight pants clung to her legs. Her hands held a long scroll with traditional Chinese characters in front of her face, making the two bobs of hair popping from a black hat and pink flower the only tell-tale sign that it was her.

Anya, on the other hand, was dressed in much brighter colors. Her winter coat was a light pink, a few shades shy of cotton candy. White fur trimmed her sleeves and deck, matching the fur on the hat decoration of her head band. She stood a bit to the side, watching intently as the monster squirmed ferally beneath Chun-Yan.

Marianne was also a spectator. Her arms crossed over her chest, she watched with satisfaction as the monster— dreary, they called it— thrashed harder. She was dressed no less eccentrically in a long white skirt and a blue suit top. A purple cape fell behind her back, touching the back of her boots. It was a regal sort of look, as marked by the crown sitting at the top of her head.

"What are …" Rose shook her head. It was obvious what they were doing, wasn't it? They were on her side and keeping that monster under control. She turned to Amelia. "What is that thing?" she asked.

"It's a dreary, but …" Amelia weighed her options. "Right now really isn't the time—"

Chun-Yan screamed. High and shrill, it pierced the air like a booming gunshot. Rose and Amelia turned around just in time to see Chun-Yan skid on the grass, kicking up patches of green and brown before rolling painfully into a tree. The dreary was back on its feet; hissing like a venomous snake, black drool dripping from its riddled tongue. Anya and Marianne cursed before jumping into action.

Marianne flicked up her sleeves, revealing a glass rosary for a bracelet. She clapped it between her hands before kneeling onto the ground for prayer. A purple ring blazed around the dreary, glowed for a moment, before finally birthing a fence made of elegant swords. The swords rose into the air and pointed towards the dreary. Marianne said a final word. The swords plunged right into it with a sickening _squish! _Black blood immediately squirted from the wounds, spilling thickly into the soil.

Anya stepped up, her face drawn into a smile. She then held her hands over the dreary, seemingly humming as white sparks seeped from her hands. At first, Rose thought that they were stars or harmless glitter, but they clumped together quickly and soon solidified into a glossy ice crystal. She entrapped the dreary, swords and all, in it, giving a scowling Chun-Yan a look of satisfaction when she was done. "That was easy," she taunted, dusting her hands off victoriously. "You make it look like—"

The ice exploded, the shards flying through the air dangerously. The girls screamed and shielded their faces. Amelia pushed Rose onto the ground, yelping as the sharp ice scratched and cut her skin. Rose's vision blurred. She couldn't breathe; Amelia crushed her chest. "Get off of me!" She shrieked, pushing the blond away. She sat up, pulling her glasses off to rub the sight back into her eyes.

What she saw was less than comforting.

Anya was standing firmly on her feet, using an invisible force to hold the shards in midair, inches from her face. Her eyes scanned evenly around the park, drinking the sight of Marianne gasping a few feet away, her hands over the large shard embedded into her thigh.

Rose stared at the red consuming her white skirt, growing larger with every labored breath. Trepidation swelled in her veins. "Amelia …"

Amelia jumped back to her feet, crouching on the balls of her feet. Even with red lines dripping down her fair skin, tears in her jacket, she still held an air of power. Rose peered at her quietly, wary of the smoldering flames in her eyes.

Amelia glared at the dreary as it gurgled a large spurt of bubbling black blood. It hunched its back, letting its arms hang helplessly at its sides. It took Rose a moment to realize that the heavy, hoarse breathing was a laugh. "wEAk LEnORe … WIlL KiLL … yOU …

Amelia laughed hollowly. "Fuck. It's stronger than it looks." She wiped her arm over her face, smearing red over her mouth. The blaze under her skin intensified. She barked, "Chun-Yan, take care of Marianne. Anya, drop the ice and get your ass into helping me." She turned her glare to Rose. "Well, whatever sadness you have is strong, I can tell you that."

Rose stared at her with wide eyes. "What—"

"But stay back. Let the heroes deal with this." Before she could say anything, Amelia jumped to her feet and dashed off to the dreary. She watched with worry as Amelia ran straight towards it, not even blinking when she buried her fist into its face. The white skin turned into slime, engulfing her hand in its sticky substance. Amelia swore. "Damnit— Anya!"

Anya ran after her, wiping a hand across the air. The ice trailed after it, forming a crystal blade. "Idiot! Why the fuck did you punch it?" She demanded. She slashed it at the dreary, cutting its head straight off. The second it was off, the black and white shot up and morphed into a new replica of Rose's head.

"Get your bat already!" Chun-Yan yelled as she held her red rimmed hands over Marianne's wound.

Rose knitted her brows. "Bat?" Suddenly, she felt the cork wood on the tips of her fingers. Amelia left it with her. She looked between it and the fighting girl.

Rose gulped. She was the only person close enough to get it to Amelia in time. If she waited any longer, Amelia might lose, and then …

Swallowing her fear, Rose gritted her teeth and snatched the bat off the ground. Her temples were pounding. She could barely hear Chun-Yan and Marianne shouting for her to not be reckless as she scrambled to her feet and made a break for it. Not that it mattered much— she was going to help Amelia defeat that thing before it killed her. A few yards turned into miles as she ran to her, lifting up the bat. "Ame—"

The moment her friend turned to see her, an amazed smile painting her face, the dreary slashed out an arm. It may have appeared solid, but it turned into a sticky gunk upon contact. White slime wrapped around Amelia's stomach, consuming her abdominal in a sickening clutch. Amelia immediately screamed, kicking her legs and clawing at it. "Shit! Get it off! Get off!" The slime trapped her fingers, holding them in place. Amelia's eyes went wide as the color drained from her face in silent horror. "Shit …"

Anya whipped around, raising her white-lined hands to help. But as Rose ran closer, she knew that Anya was going to be too late. With no way to safely wrench herself free, the only thing Amelia could do was grit her teeth in stubbornness as the dreary with her face flashed its sharp fangs, a black tongue sliding over the points.

The next thing she knew, Rose skidded to a halt and used her remaining momentum to swing the bat into Amelia, effectively unlodging her from the slime and sending her flying ten feet and into the trunk of a tree. Rose skidded to a halt, placing her hands on her knees as she panted heavily. She did that. She actually attacked that thing.

Anya raised her brow in amazement, staring at Rose. "How did you do that?" she asked, sounding both humored and impressed. Rose's mouth pulled into an unsure line just as Anya's eyes went wide. She snapped her hand out, firing a pointed shard of ice.

It would have hit Rose if she had not covered her neck and ducked to the ground. Behind her, a sick _squish _sounded, followed by a shrill shriek. Rose jerked around. The ice had embedded itself into the dreary's chest, steam shooting out from the wound. The dreary bared its teeth, hissing as it stumbled in an erratic circle. Around and around and around it went, claw-like hands around the ice as it gurgled and croaked. "Did we get it?" Rose asked dumbly, mesmerized by the strange dance her look-a-like performed.

Anya shook her head. "I'm not sure, but just to be safe …" Anya formed a slim needle of ice and aimed it at the dreary again.

Without warning, the dreary snapped its head towards them and hissed. Rose took an instinctive step back, raising her hands in front of her as the dreary pulled the original shard out of its chest and threw it to the ground. It shattered before disappearing and dissolving into thin air.

She gawked at the empty space. The grass where it once stood was still kicked up, dirt streaked across the rich green. Her head was heavy and she could feel her brain struggle to process what she had just witnessed.

Did those girls just use ice and fire and swords in order to fight some monster version of herself? Rose placed a hand on the side of her head, swearing. Did Allistor slip drugs into her coffee this morning because she was sure she was hallucinating.

"It ran away," Chun-Yan said, frowning heavily as she stood, her black sleeves engulfing her hands. She helped a finally mended Marianne to her feet, letting the girl lean on her shoulder for support. Chun-Yan treated the pale blond with gentleness; giving her a small word of encouragement, all while sending Rose glares. "You know, if you hadn't interfered," she huffed. "We would've defeated it."

Rose's clenched her fists into tight balls, searching her head for a reply, but for once in her life her mind drew the blank card. Not once had she ever been in such a dire situation, one where dying seemed like a reasonable outcome. She had no idea what she was doing or even if what she did do was the right choice. And yet, even though she _saved _Amelia, this little girl was going to insult her for it? Rose's nose crinkled scornfully and her face contorted into a deep scowl, but it was countered by the calm contempt in Chun-Yan's eyes.

"Be quiet, Wang, Rose was kickass." She turned, seeing Amelia finally jump from the rubble of wood, beaten and scratched as she dusted the dirt off of her skirt. Despite a few trickles of red going down her skin, she was still able to smile and wink easily. Rose wanted to frown in reply, but a happy visage tugged on her lips. "We'll get it another day, especially since we've got Rose here to help us."

That frown suddenly came. "What?" She turned to each of the girls, surprised to see a set of equally confused faces. "No way. I don't even have any idea what the bloody hell you freaks are— I mean, you were thrown _into a tree _and no one seems to give a damn!"

Amelia blinked and held her hands behind her back, trying to look innocent. "But didn't you just have super strength just now?"

She threw her hands up into the air. "I don't know! And I don't care! Right now, I just want to go home!" Rose looked behind herself, realizing for the first time that the children at the park were unaware of the wreckage barely ten feet from them. They laughed and giggled comfortably, knowing well that their equally oblivious parents would watch over them. Rose swore. "Bloody hell— why haven't they noticed any of this yet?"

"If you agree to help us," Amelia said. "We'll tell you—"

"Do I look like an idiot to you? No!"

"May I interject something?" They looked back at Marianne, pale and weak to the touch. Clutching onto Chun-Yan for dear life, she repelled all of the pain from her face. "If I may, it might be best if Daniel tries talking to her. He's a convincing guy."

Rose knitted her eyebrows. "Who's Dan—"

Amelia clapped her hands loudly, her mood brightened considerably. "You're absolutely right!" She all but yelled. She held her hands out, eagerly motioning for them to gather. "C'mon, you guys know the drill."

Rose wondered if she could slip away before she was caught up in some satanic ritual, but Anya grabbed her arm, smiled innocently, and pulled her in. Her tight— painful —grip forced Rose to drop the bat she forgot she was even holding and hold both her and Chun-Yan's hand. In a linked circle, they stood, their heads bowed in reverence.

Rose shifted on her feet awkwardly, wondering when she'll wake up from her dream.

"Daniel?" Amelia said, suddenly sounding the calm. Rose looked up at her, awed. Rarely had she ever heard Amelia sound so mature. "We lost the dreary, but we're injured and we have a friend who'll like to see you. So can we come visit you?"

Silence. Whatever air she had been speaking too remained dead. "Daniel?" Amelia peeked her eye open, making eye contact with Rose. "You have to close your eyes, Prez," she said. "He wouldn't see ya otherwise."

Rose scoffed, "But why should—" Chun-Yan jabbed an elbow into her side. She hissed, grinding her teeth. "Alright, fine. I'll do it." She closed her eyes, extra sure to frown. "Tell me when we're 'there.'"

"You're here." The new voice, a male's, shocked her eyes open.

The park was long gone, replaced by an elegantly gothic study. Rose gasped, taking a step away from the circle and turned in her own, drinking the sight of the shadowed bookshelves, crammed with leather bound volumes, and mounted torches. A grand fireplace, surrounded by a couch and chair, was carved into the wall. Hanging over it was a tall portrait of a dark haired woman dressed in a white dress, her expression gentle and curt.

Rose stood before it, rubbing her fingers into the couch's velvet covering. "How did we get here?" She breathed. She turned to Chun-Yan, expecting an answer, but the dark-haired girl ignored her as she helped Marianne lay down on the couch.

"Daniel!" Amelia shot pass Rose, squealing excitedly all the way. Rose's eyes traveled the length of the couch, trailing up to the single desk in the room. That was where the man stood. He was tall, his strong arms hidden beneath a loose white shirt. His chin was fine to a point, a nice contrast to his bushy ponytail of brown hair. But even through the dim glow of the torches, his eyes were a bright green.

Daniel smiled, refine, letting Amelia jump onto his arms, twirling her in a circle as he laughed warmly. He placed a hand on the small of her back, holding her steady on the tips of her toes. "Hello, Amelia," he greeted. "I'm glad you came."

Amelia pulled away, the blithe shining evidently on her visage. "I missed you. I haven't seen you in a while."

He smiled. "It's been a day."

"Yeah, a whole day!"

Chun-Yan nudged Rose's elbow and pretended to puke. Rose shook her head. This flirtatious vibe Amelia was sending off made Rose nauseous, but she wouldn't call it gross. They were being cute in their own overly sweet way.

Daniel shook his head, the humored grin fighting its way triumphantly onto his face. However, it quickly died when he saw the cuts littering her skin. Daniel gaped, a hand reaching up to touch one particular one on her cheek. "You injured yourself again," he said.

Amelia laughed, brushing his worries aside with a shrug. "I've had worse."

"Still." He wiped his finger over her cheek, the cut disappearing with it. The rest of her wounds did similar, erasing themselves from her skin. "What in the world did you do to get this?"

"A couple of things, but—" She turned around, extending a hand towards Rose. "—Prez here threw me into a tree."

Daniel shifted his gaze onto her, his green gleam cutting into her flesh and making her itch. Rose quickly tugged her clothes straight, pressing her lips together as she smoothed her pigtails. Rose dared to approach him, extending a hand towards him. "I'm Rose Kirkland," she introduced, using the formal tone she usually saved for teachers. "And I didn't mean to hit Amelia, it sort of just happened."

Immediately, he graced her with a kind look, saying, "and I don't doubt it for a second." He took her hand with a sure grip. Rose met his eye, a sign of confidence, when she saw a flicker in his eyes. It was hard to say _what _exactly it was, but it seemed… stunned.

Shocked.

Eager.

But it must have been her imagination or a smudge on her glasses. With the blink of an eye, his eyes were normal and he was introducing himself. "I'm Daniel Héderváry, the poe for this lovely group of girls."

Rose looked confused. "Poe?"

Chun-Yan coughed again, drawing their attention back to the couch and fireplace. "Sorry to interrupt your introductions," she said testily, "but Marianne's _dying _over here."

Affection shone in his face, a look akin to a father to his naive child. "Oh Chun-Yan," he said. "Always the practical one." He walked to the couch, nodding to Anya, who was sitting in front of the fireplace. "Marianne isn't dying," he told her sensibly, placing his hands on her leg. The wound in her thigh mended itself in a second, the tears in her white skirt disappearing with it. "There. And while I'm at it …" He placed a hand on Chun-Yan's head and her scratch disappeared. Anya crawled to him, letting him pat the top of her head and heal her. Her face loosen with relief, a heavy weight lifted off of her shoulders.

"You know," Daniel said, seating himself on the arm of the couch and crossing his legs. "For the best group of lenores around, you four sure like to be injured."

Rose looked at him, once again confused. "What's a lenore?" she asked.

Daniel cocked an eyebrow. "You don't know?" Her cheeks flushed as she nodded reluctantly. He paused, placing a thoughtful finger beneath his chin. "That's very interesting. Especially since you have the powers of one."

Rose took a step back, disturbed. "I have the what?"

He sighed. "This is hard to convince," he muttered, a little annoyance drifting into his tone. He sighed, trying to look congenial as he explained, "You have the powers of a lenore. You might want to sit down, Rose. This will take a while."

Rose glanced behind herself, seeing Amelia lean against a bookshelf and nod to her encouragingly. She wiped her palms on her skirt, careful and stiff as she lowered herself onto the floor, feeling the carpet tickle her own scratches and bruises. If she wasn't dreaming all of this, maybe she should ask Daniel to heal her as well.

The man nodded pleasingly. He folded his hands upon his lap, raising his chin and drawing his face with gravity. "It is a very long story, but it is one where I have to start from the beginning. There was a man once who was tortured by his past. Tortured indeed, but he refused to linger in it. He longed to rid himself of this pain and live comfortably with anticipation for the future. So he spent a whole night pouring over the tales of lore and, after many hours of studying, he realized that pain exists in a tangible form, but on another plane of existence. On that plane, they personify as humanity's greatest woes and feast on them until the person had no will to live any longer, thus becoming either destructive towards society or themselves. This embodied pain is what we call a dreary and, as poes and lenores, it is our duty to slay them and bring about happiness and inner peace."

Rose gaped at him for a long moment, more sure than ever before that she was caught in a lucid dream. She shook her head, trying to block out the rest of his madness.

But Daniel was far from done. Engrossed, he barely took heed of her, instead choosing to stand up and meander around the room. "To get into deeper explanation, a poe is someone who dubs the lenores. As one, I find the girls whom I believe are suitable for the task of dreary hunting and awaken their inner powers. I assist in the ways I can, like healing or finding new group members—" he nodded towards Marianne, who smiled coyly. "But I cannot leave this realm."

Roe picked at her nails anxiously. "And what realm is this?"

"The halfway point between the id and superego." He waved his hand in the air. "But that is an even longer and extraneous conversation I would prefer to avoid. Anyways, where was I?" He ran his fingers along the spine of a book. "Right, lenores. Lenores are, in a sense, witches. Heaven knows— enough of them have burned for their abilities. Lenores wield magic and dedicate their lives to fighting drearies. They are the only humans capable of entering the dreays' plane of existence and, sadly, many have died doing their immaculate duty."

Rose pointed her finger into her chest. "And you're saying that I'm a lenore?"

He nodded. "Yes, but you are a very curious case." He slid off the couch, brows scrunched together, and stepped towards her. "Your abilities have been unlocked without my intervention. So the real question is—" he crouched in front of her, his nose barely an inch away from hers. His eyes drilled into her, making her skin itch. "Who was the poe who did?"

Rose shook her head. "I must be dreaming," she muttered, enticing groans from the other girls in the room. "I don't have magic. This is all just a—"

"Prez," Amelia moaned, rolling her neck in frustration. "You kind of threw me into a tree—"

"By accident!" Rose curled her lip, crossing her arms over her chest. "And besides, anything can happen in dreams."

Chun-Yan groaned, rising to her feet with the roll of the eyes. "Shut-up, Kirkland. You probably summoned that dreary on purpose." She marched around the couch, giving the blond a full view of her disgusted form. Sticking her small fists onto her waist, she glowered at Rose, saying, "Daniel, we all know that she's bluffing. We should just take care of her now before—"

"Take care of?" Rose, suddenly forgetting her resolution, felt a surge of panic course through her veins. "What the bloody hell is that supposed to mean?"

"Isn't it obvious?" Anya asked with a small quirk in her brows. "We'll kill you."

Daniel gave them both a hard looks. "Girls—"

Rose shot her head around like a scared animal, searching fruitlessly for an easy escape. "Why would you kill me?" She started to back away, making her way towards the lone door wedged between the bookcases. "I didn't do anything!"

"But you have the magic," Amelia said, her chin between her fingers. "And it's just like my magic too."

"But I'm not a lenore!"

"Oh God— _fermez les bouches!" _Everyone turned to look at Marianne, struck between shock and curiosity as she forced herself to sit up. She looked livelier than before, but strands of blond were fighting their ways out of her bun. Huffing them out of her face, she turned her glare towards the room. "Shut-up all of you and listen to yourselves. I've been in this business for a very long time and have fought alongside many fellow lenores, and let me tell you that Rose does not look like one. She doesn't act like us and any idiot can tell that all of this is frightening her." She pressed her lips, narrowing her gaze towards Daniel. "You know, when you said that working with a group would be far more preferable than single-handedly clearing out _Paris, _I thought you were telling me the truth."

Daniel sighed, his face crumbling away into something much softer. "I was telling you the truth," he said gently. He looked at the rest of the girls. "And if I believed Rose here had any ill intentions, then I would have voiced them."

"I don't know," Anya muttered, turning back to the fire. "You are a very sticky person, Daniel."

He ignored her. Instead, he took delicate steps towards Rose, as if he was approaching an injured lion. "Rose, I know that you're very confused and very frightened, but there is something extraordinary about you," he said.

She shook her head. "But this is a dream," she whispered.

"No, it isn't." He paused right in front of her, trying his surest smile. "If you would like, you can try being one of us for a bit. See how you like it. And if you hate it or think it's too dangerous, then you can leave and we'll never bother you about this again."

"This is a stupid idea," Chun-Yan muttered.

"So what do you say?" He held out his hand towards Rose. "Would you let me unlock your powers and make you a lenore?"

She gaped at his hand, wide-eyed and mind blank. This is just a dream, isn't it? They really wanted her to become one of them? Why her? No matter what they said, she knew that there really was nothing special about her. She's been Rose Kirkland her whole life and she knew herself better than anybody. There was absolutely nothing special about her.

She started to shake her head, but stopped herself.

This is just a dream, right?

But what if …

Rose cleared the idea out of her head. No, that was simply insane. She probably tripped and hit her head on the sidewalk. She was going to wake up from this dream and be in a hospital with Allistor yelling at her for being reckless. The drearies, lenores, poes— merely fantasies shaped by her own bored head.

She looked back at Daniel and saw his green eyes bright with hope. It was almost too wonderful to ruin, but …

"I'm sorry," she said at last. "But no."

Daniel hardly looked fazed. He only lowered his hand, his hope morphing into a smooth, revered mask.

The girls, however, were a different story entirely. Marianne looked disappointed, but her expression was out shown by the relief in Chun-Yan's eyes. Anya was not paying attention. Amelia was livid. She marched over to the blond, puffing her cheeks out angrily. "Why not?" she demanded. "You have an ability, why wouldn't you—"

"Because it's not real." Rose looked down at the ground through the rim of her glasses. Her shoulders rose in a slight shrug. If this was a dream, then there was no problem with her saying exactly what was on her mind. "I mean, I want it to be something incredible," she explained. "I've always been waiting for something beyond imagination, but there's a reason that this is all just a dream. None of these dreary or lenore things are plausible."

When she looked up again, she saw the face of the girl who knew nothing of rules cracking with hurt and defeat. "Rose…"

Daniel placed a hand on Amelia's shoulder, grimacing as he gave her a small squeeze. "Let it go, Amelia. There's nothing we can do for her." He looked back at Rose and smiled. "We'll leave you alone now, but if you ever change your mind, my offer still stands."

Rose nodded, never thinking twice about it as the scenery around her faded away.

* * *

The first thing she saw was gray.

Endless, monotonous gray.

Rose stared at it for a long moment, slowly registering the laughter and squeals of nearby children. That was right— she was at the park. The gray sea above her was the clouds and the soft green ocean below was the grass.

She slowly sat up, placing a hand on her head. She had a headache. Why? She didn't do anything to cause it.

She blinked.

Now that she thought about it, she did not remember ever laying down on the grass either. Rose yawned, scratching the sleep away from her eyes. She must have taken a break while walking and fallen asleep. A bit of an overreaction, but her emotions had been more worn out and abused. Served her right for believing Amelia would actually want to take her for ice cream anyways. Stupid.

Stupid like the dream she just had. A bunch of her classmates fighting an evil version of herself? Where did that dream even originate from? She sighed and shook her head. It was best to just forget it. Dreams were dreams for a reason. They were only a way for the brain to occupy itself during sleep.

Rose picked herself off the ground, wiping off her skirt. She should go home and do homework before Allistor came home and create a drunken ruckus. No more procrastinating, she told herself. Whatever promise Amelia broke was in the past.

But as Rose walked briskly away, she thought she saw a head of short, curly blond hair across the street, looking at her curiously. She and the person held a gaze for a long moment before the person shook their head and went in the opposite direction. Rose shivered and hurried home.

* * *

**~END OF CHAPTER 1~**

* * *

**MW: **And end of chapter. So welcome to my second blog story (for more information about that, see note at top), in which I combine Edgar Allen Poe and magical girls, two of my favorite things. I actually got this idea all the way back in spring this year, a little after I watched _Madoka Magica_. I'm not going to copy it, but I am going to admit that it did inspire me.

Anyways, so this chapter is about three months' worth of writing. It's not my best, but I hope to improve on my third person story telling abilities soon. I might do shorter chapters, but I'm not sure yet. Depends on what the readers demand. You can always get more consistent updates from the actual blog.

I would like to thank you for reading and please spare me a review or follow or favorite if you feel so inclined.

**Thank you for reading. See you again eventually. **


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